It Hurts - Troyler Fluff
by GeorgiaPhan
Summary: It is Troye's birthday, and Tyler goes shopping. When he returns Troye is no where to be seen. [Self Harm Included - May Offend Some - Not meant to! x] Please R&R. I hope you like it x
1. Chapter 1 - It Hurts

It is 5:30 on the 5th of June. [Troye's birthday] - Tyler was stood in front of his bathroom mirror, arranging his lilac hair. After it was perfect, he carefully perched his flat cap, backwards, over the top and walked into the hall. He was getting ready to go out, he wanted to go shopping, and was going out early to avoid masses of fans. As much as he adored them, sometimes they were a little too noisy. He slipped on his Nike high tops, and was almost about to walk out of the door when Troye staggered over. "You should be asleep!" Tyler giggled, as Troye had sheet marks on his left cheek and his hair was sticking up at all angles. "So should you.." He mumbled, sloppily landing in Tyler's arms. They embraced for a while until Troye slowly fell asleep. Tyler carried him back to their bedroom, tucked the duvet over the top of him, and planted a soft kiss on his forehead before leaving the house. He trudged Walmart, collecting necessities, before walking to the line of clothes shops. He went into Top Man first, and bought a grey-blue top. It had rolled up sleeves, and he imagined Troye wearing it. "Damn.." He said out loud. This earned him sharp looks, and he quickly and awkwardly apologised. He then went into American Eagle and purchased 2 pairs of super skinny jeans. One was a deep black, the other a washed out denim colour, a little lighter than Troye's eyes. The last shop he ventured into was Hollister. It was 4 floors high, towering above all the other shops. He picked up a bottle of 'So Cal So Chill Cologne', another of 'Break Line Cologne', a 'Pearl Street Sweater', 'Sycamore Cove Hooded Sweater', a 'Reef Point Shirt' and last of all, a 'Dana Strands Hoodie Sweater'. "That'll be £400." The teen at the checkout drawled. Tyler did not hesitate to pull out his card, and typed his pin in with the same amount of confidence. Then, he made one last trip to the bakers down the road from his apartment. He picked up a three tier cake with the same washed out denim colour as the first top he bought. It had 'It me' printed over and over, in a swirly text. He thanked the bakers, with whom he had ordered it two weeks ago. When he entered the apartment, he took everything to the kitchen. At this point it was 8:45, so he knew Troye would still be sound asleep. He wrapped each present neatly in an opal like wrapping paper, tying a deep gold ribbon round each one. Then, he lit candles on the cake, and juggling both the presents and the cake, he made his way to the bedroom he shared with Troye. He opened it and said sassily "Happy Birthday, it me. Happy Birthday, it you. Happy Birthday, it us... Happy Birthday it you!" He stopped. Troye was no where to be seen. He placed the presents on the side of the bed that he had made, next to Troye's side. Then, he cleared his bedside table with one swift arm movement and carefully lowered the cake onto it. Then, he searched the apartment. Troye was not on the balcony, nor was he in the drawing room. He tried everywhere he could think of. He knew he was still in the apartment, as his shoes were standing by the door, like the night before. At last he tried the bathroom. It was locked. "Troye?" Tyler knocked on the door. "Are you in there?" He knocked twice over. Tyler heard a little gasp of breath, as if from pain. "Troye?" Tyler was panicked, he began to thrust his shoulder against the door, over and over. "Troye!" He kicked, punched, scratched and slapped the door. He was crying, screaming Troye's name. He sobbed into his hands, overwhelmed by his worry. He slumped down, back against the bathroom door. "Troye?" He whispered, his voice full of pure, unadulterated fear. Fear of losing the one person who meant the most. "Tyler.." Troye's voice seemed slurred, like he had just woken. Tyler imagined a picture of Troye, like he was before he left, with his hair sticking up at the front. He smiled, lowering his anxiety a little, before it returned fully. "Troye, open the door." Tyler spoke sternly, as if to a child who would not do as he was told. Troye slowly opened the door, head down, tear after silent tear rolling down his flushed cheeks. Tyler grabbed Troye and shook him once, before hugging him tightly. Troye whimpered, That was when Tyler noticed Troye's arms. They were red, crisscrossed with scars, new cuts on top, layer on layer. Tyler held Troye as he cried, Cried as if his heart would break. 


	2. Chapter 2 - Hate

Tyler did not know what to do, Troye was so weak in his arns, so fragile, so young. After Troye had calmed down a little, Tyler took him into their bedroom. He moved Troye's laptop from the bed, and just about to put the lid down to perch it on the desk, he glanced at the screen. There were 4 tabs open. Twitter, Tumblr, and Facebook. The first tab, , was filled with 'Go die, bum fucker' 'Kill yourself gay shit' 'I 'm going to make you wish you were never born, you bent scum' and comments worse than that. Scrolling, they took up the majority of Troye's questions, but they were all dated this day's date. A few questions were 'Happy Birthday Troye x' but they were the tiny minority. The second, Twitter, was filled with the same remarks and comments, but they detailed that he should 'jump of a cliff' or 'hang himself' and other, more descriptive threats. The third, Tumblr, was not as bad, as there were many more 'Happy Birthday's and 'Love you Troye!'s, but the most recent post was the most disgusting. It read 'You are a ******* fag. You disgust me. I hate you, I hate you to the depth of my soul. Gay people make me sick, you are fucking gross. If I were your mum, I would have had an abortion. You need to go and kill yourself, go and fucking die ******. You are foul.' Tyler's heart sank as he looked on the next tab. It was on Troye's inbox, and the inbox was filled with hundreds or thousands of messages. Quickly scrolling, they were filled with the same homophobic remarks, death threats and comments as the others. He turned around to see Troye was huddled up, his knees to his chin, his head encased in his arms. He walked over and lowered himself on the bed, and gazed at him. Troye's arms, from the shoulder to the wrist, were covered in slits and scars. Blood was smeared all over, and Tyler could also see bruises mottled underneath. Tyler, slowly and softly, stripped Troye down to his boxers. He searched every part of his body, and discovered cuts that ran all the way up the inside of his legs. "Troye. I.." He whispered, his voice low. "I needed to have known about this babe. You could have rung me! I was just in town!" Tyler was desperate, he felt utterly guilty for this. "Gurl. My gurl. Come here." The two of them held each other, Tyler began to quietly sob into Troye's chest and this caused Troye to weep louder. "I.. I felt so horrid. Like I did not deserve anything. They made me feel like it was my fault. At first I answered them with jovial things like 'Sssh it ma birthday' or 'It me. It you. It just who we be' but it got worse. Much worse." Tyler reached over and scrolled up, watching Troye's responses go from happy, to distraught. "Then I told them to stop. That I could not do this anymore. That it hurt me. But they carried on. I couldn't do it. I'm so sorry. So so sorry." This sprouted another gush of tears on his behalf, and he cried on Tyler's chest. "Don't you apologise. They are the cunts." Tyler said, stubborn but truthful. "Come on you. Let's get you cleeaanned up." Whether it was from the way Tyler pronounced that word, or whether Troye was just too overwhelmed with sadness to keep control of his emotions, he giggled a little. But Tyler was serious. He took him into the bathroom, wiping his legs and arms down. Tyler winced as he picked up the razor that Troye had used, he winced when he used the anti-septic wipe on the slashes, he even winced when bandaging them up. Troye did not even blink. When Tyler was sure Troye's wounds were properly looked after, he sat him down on the bed. "Troye. Just for this week, Please, so we can focus on not only each other, but to get you happier, please can you deactivate your accounts." Troye was about to protest, but Tyler's face remained serious. "I will do the same, and you know how much I looovvee to tweet. I am willing to deactivate all my accounts, if you will, so we can figure out how to deal with this." "Together?" Troye said quietly, both their hands on the key pad. "Together." 


	3. Chapter 3 - Lost Boys

**I know cute might not be the right word to use for this subject, but here's a cute chapter for you 3 please comment guys, i want to know whether you want it continued x**

After deactivating each and every social networking site they each owned, they sat together on the bed. #

"It's weird to say.." Troye said slowly, which earned him a 'could things get any worse' look from Tyler, he continued "But this means you're serious."

"What?" Tyler was so overwhelmed with the situation, he found that statement both insulting and complimenting, confused, he asked for clarity.

"I mean... deactivating your Twitter! That's like... you deliberately melting your ice cream in the hottest day of Summer. It just doesn't happen."

Tyler blinked his eyes repeatedly, bringing his face closer to Troye's, and whispered "Some people are worth melting for."

Troye giggled, but held his stomach, wincing a little.

"Show me." Tyler was short, sharp. He did not know what else to say.

Troye slowly took off his top, revealing another set of jagged lines.

"I'm sorry." He whispered as Tyler began to clean them up once more.

"I told you to stop apologising, didn't I?" He was stern, his eyes wide, the sparkle in them faded as tears began to slowly run down his cheeks."They are the

cunts. Don't you apologise."

"Tyler..." Troye started, but he pressed his finger on his lips, shushing him.

"Just don't. Please please don't. I should apologise for this .For not even noticing. I should have known, somehow."

"How? How could you have known?" Troye's eyes filled with tears. "You couldn't have done. I hide it, it is so easy! I have not even done it for long! What.. a

few days? And already the world seems so much darker, heavier. I see people differently, I see them in a new light. If it is in light at all. I.."

"You see me differently?" Tyler's voice was small, the tears could not stop.

"I.. No. I .. didn't mean it like that. Tyler..." Troye began to bring his knees to his chin, trying to hide away from Tyler's hurt gaze. "I... I love you." He could no

longer hold the steady flood of tears.

"Don't. Please don't cry." Tyler held him close, he could not do anything else. Minutes flew by, they stayed close to one another.

They held each other like lost boys, would not let go, _could not let go_.


	4. Chapter 4 - Everlasting

"Troye... babey... we need to celebrate your birthday."

"I don't really feel up to that, but thanks anyway." His face was emotionless, no joy yet no sadness. He was unusually pale, zombie like and still.

"I don't care. You're opening the presents whether you like it or not!"

Troye smiled, though his eyes were sad. He watched Tyler scoop up the shiny parcels from the floor where they had fallen, and he piled them on Troye's lap.

He opened the two Colognes first, smelling them both by spraying them onto Tyler's wrists. When smelling the 'Break Line', a single tear rolled down his cheek.

"It smells like our first date." He sniffed, wiping his nose on the duvet which earned him an "EEEWW!" from Tyler. "We were on the beach, I had a lemonade. Look, smell it." Tyler took a deep breath and choked. "Not that much! See, it's citrusy but salt like at the same time. It's sweet, but rough." He smiled at Tyler. "Thankyou."

"Keep opening babe" Tyler said softly, picking out the package which had the Top Man shirt in.

Troye's eyes lit up when he saw the blue-grey top and he did not hesitate to try it on. Tyler smiled as he looked even more perfect than he had ever imagined.

He was so beautiful.

But so vulnerable, so quick to believe others.

Was it beauty that made you vulnerable?

Or maybe vulnerabilty was a beauty.

Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, he watched as Troye opened the other presents.

With every one he let out a gasp and thanked Tyler with either a tight hug or a soft, short kiss.

He was happy.

But Tyler wanted that happiness to be everlasting.

After tearing the paper into pieces and throwing them in the air, making them both giggle, they sat on the bed and set up the iPad in order to FaceTime Troye's mum.

Just before calling, Tyler flattened down Troyes hair which was sticking up comically, and wiped his eyes.

"Smile baby" he whispered "because I love you." Squeezing his hand, they began the call.

Troye's mum was walking in a familiar street and entered a lift.

"Mum?!" He was confused "where are you?"

"Hang on honey. My wifi is going" She winked at the camera and ended it.

Two seconds later there was a knock on the apartment door.

"Did you tell her?" Troye was angry, his body tense.

"Do you really think your ma could have flown all this way in less than 2 hours?!" Tyler smiled a little "she told me she was coming over a week ago, I wanted to make it a surprise."

Troye relaxed, his shoulders sloped. "I'm sorry.. I... I don't know how she would react to this."

"Did you guess how I would react?"

"Kind of. Well, I don't know. In that moment I wasn't thinking about anything else other than myself. My immediate afterthought was you. I thought you would go crazy, loose it or something. I'm not sure. You didn't react how I thought you would anyway."

"Why did you think I would go cray..?"

Troye shrugged slowly and quickly got up to answer the door. "I don't like people knocking more than once." He explained to no one in particular.

"Hi Troye!" The 'y' was elongated as if talking to a small child. "Happy Birthday baby!" She smiled, her smile so real and wide that Troye could not resist smiling also.

"Your dad couldn't come over with me, your brother had a problem." She sighed and shrugged "Kids, what can you do, eh?"

Troye grinned and wrapped her in a tight hug.

"You're just in time to cut the cake Mrs Mellet!"

"Please Tyler, please call me Laurelle! How many times!" She winked and walked into the kitchen. "Where is it?" She asked.

"Oh.. It's in the bedroom." Troye answered and they rushed off to go get it together.

"Troye.." Tyler said quickly, concerned "I think you should put a sweater on."

He nodded, looking painfully at his arms, and picked up the hoodie Tyler gave him.

He picked up the cake and followed Troye out of the room.

His mum laughed as she saw the cake, with the slogan printed all over.

"It's amazing!" She exclaimed "... Tyler... you didn't make that... did you?!"

Tyler giggled as he quickly binned the reciept and the packaging. "Of course I did Mrs Mellet."


	5. Chapter 5 - Bleeding

"Mmm! This is so good, Tyler!" She smiles "The cake is so soft and light, you did ever such a good job in the icing! It's completely even! I

wouldn't be able to do that even if I tried!"

"I try my best Mrs M, I try my best." He could not believe she was believing this.

"Oh Mum, come on! You know Ty. He burns Poptarts, he definitely cannot cook this." He laughs, rolling up his sleeves. "Pft! It is hot in here!

Tyler, can you open a window please?" He fanned his face with his hand.

"Troye?" His mum said, sharp, as she saw his arms.

He stopped, they all did.

Troye's face drained of colour, his eyes widened. His heart beat increased until he thought his head would explode, his breathing began to get

shallower until he had to gasp for breath. He felt cold, yet his skin felt like it was raging. His hands began to shake whilst his knees grew weak.

He could barely see, his eyes stinging as they filled with hot tears.

Looking over at Tyler, his reaction was the same.

Laurelle's mouth was set in a thin line, her face red.

"Mum..." He began, though his mother's eyes threw him off.

Her eyes were like a channel into her heart, her open and bleeding heart.

Her child had just revealed a secret.

A secret that hurts.

A secret that caused her world to come crumbling down.

She could not stop looking at the welts on his pale arms; her child had _hurt_ himself.

Had _cut _himself.

And she had not been told.


End file.
